


Inevitable fleece

by laughingpineapple



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had avoided his fate for decades. She wove its seal with her own hands. Years after the ending…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitable fleece

“Uncle!”

Kamila dropped her bag on the doorstep, threw a kiss at her parents and rushed to hug the lanky figure that was leaning on the couch, ever so casually presenting his best profile, framed by the sunlight that shone through the window.

“At your service, milady.” Cabanela jumped to attention and met her hug halfway, taking her hand and leading her to spin in a half turn. “Your unexpected visit briiightens my day!”

“You liar.” She got back on her feet and patted him on the shoulder. “There's no way you didn't investigate the scene and count the dishes.”

“I very well hope so”, Alma said, pensively tapping a finger on her chin. “Given that he laid them.”

“Mom! Dad! What kind of birthday boy sets the table?” Kamila sighed, her cheeks rounding in a content smile. The constant banter back home could get taxing after a few days, but she wouldn't have missed for all the silence and music in the world.

“An unrelenting one?”

“A geeentlemanly one?”

“Both? So how's it going, uncle?”

“As busy as usual, baby. Being your parents' support in their old age is a full-time job when you're away, you know? Always getting me worried.” Cabanela ran a hand through his graying hair – as much as time had been kind to his figure and, most importantly, his joints, there was barely a streak of brown left on his head.

“Is that so? How's uncle going?”, she asked her parents. They stood by the window, hand in hand, and Kamila basked in the good-humored affection that rested on their features.

As Alma blinked and bit her lip, eyebrows folding in the search for a punchline that had to be already five or six sentences down the line, her daughter considered their plans for the day and her own grumbling stomach and mumbled a quick “Short version, mom.”

Jowd grinned and pinched his wife. “Short version for our busy student, we've almost pushed him to a promotion where they won't ever let him anywhere near fieldwork again. So stay assured, my dear, that there is hope that he will reach old age in the first place.”

A meowing echoed his words, prompting a roar of laughter that infected mom first and uncle later, after a split-second hesitation that would have evolved into a full-fledged sulk had the man exerted a less strenuous control on his composure.

“That too”, Jowd conceded.

There they went with their cat jokes. She left them to that recurring brand of private humour – or 'adult humour', as she used to call it until she became enough of a grown-up to be fairly certain that felines had nothing to do with any common meaning of the expression. Kamila shrugged, satisfied with having the full attention of the cat himself. She curled up beside Sissel for a thorough round of scratches behind the ears as the giggles around them died down.

 

“And you, baby? What are you doing with those beauuutiful hands of yours?”

“Taking notes, typing, little else.” She curled up her nose and shook her head, covering her round cheeks in waves of bright violet hair. “I miss my tools. One can't just go and bring a sander to college.”

He winked. “Let them try to stop you. What are they going to do, issue an arrest warrant? What about my excluuusive rights?”

“It's also lack of time, uncle. This is the most I could do for you, I started it even before I came back...” She crawled back to her bag and pulled out a blue mass that made up more than half of its volume.

“And even then, I had to stop at Amelie's place this morning to get her help with the finishing touches.”

With a cheerful “Happy birthday!”, Kamila crumpled the unwrapped present into a ball and threw it at its recipient, who caught it in a swirl but found himself overcome by a blob of cobalt wool. Cabanela untangled himself from the mess and ended up gently supporting the sleeve and waist of a brightly-coloured, hand-knitted sweater, with a black cat motiv and fluo yellow trimmings that matched the cat's eyes.

 

 

 

Amidst the laughter, the 'thank you baby's, 'Amelie too's and a fitting over the rolled sleeves of his white shirt in that warm, windy summer day, he managed to shoot a killer look at Jowd.

_Not an input from me_ , the man mouthed.

Cabanela took great care in forming a clear answer with his lips.

_Except genes._

**Author's Note:**

> (from the list of Silly Remarks That Had To Become Fics Sooner Or Later, allow me to present: “Cabanela is a combo breaker though just because, no matter how hard I try, I can’t imagine him ever submitting to Jowd’s taste in fashion. I just imagine him subconsciously cringing every time he sees Jowd wearing anything but his single socially acceptable outfit”, signed, [thatdarnmo](http://thatdarnmo.tumblr.com/post/18412232150/fyeahghosttrick-fygt-has-officially-hit-100) Add ficwriting standards worthy of a hyperactive five-year-old and, well. Here we are. I didn't want him to be forced into a hawaiian shirt or something for some reason, and a present from Jowd didn't make sense from Jowd's pov and would leave him with ample chances for comebacks and snark. Keyword was “submit”, see. But coming from Kamila? He has to give in.)  
> (btw of course they're having a separate party with Lynne too later on, and a dinner out with Lynne and Pigeon Man etc etc, partying, nothing like it baby, but this wanted to be just Kamila and Cabanela and there were too many mandatory characters in the house already so.)


End file.
